


Snapshots of a Life Lived Free

by Taste_of_Ink



Category: Charmed
Genre: Best Friends, Brotherhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2011-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-12 19:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Ink/pseuds/Taste_of_Ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ficlets from the changed future, watching Wyatt and Chris as they grow up as the closest of brothers. This fic series is gen (or possibly pre-slash/incest if you swing that way and put your slash goggles on) but definitely not het.</p><p>I apologise in advance for any poetry I have to write in the pursuit of including their spell casting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This is Wyatt's earliest memory...

Wyatt remembered being in the attic in his playpen. Not trapped, because he was never trapped, but waiting. Waiting for his Mom to come get him or maybe for his Aunts to come play with him or if he was lucky, for his Dad to orb in. In his memory he knew none of them were there.

The only person with him was a man who was worried about something. Wyatt had a vague remembered impression of agitated pacing that ended with the guy coming over to him and saying something about getting Wyatt out of there. At the time that had confused him; where was safer than the attic?

He'd learned how wrong that assumption was almost immediately though, as he watched his protector killed right in front of him.

Truthfully, Wyatt was never sure how real that memory was anyway because no matter how hard he tried to recall it correctly, in his head his defender always looked just like Chris.

Obviously Wyatt knew that wasn't real, that it was just his subconscious replacing a too faded recollection with a well known face. He'd done psychology in school and he didn't have to be a genius to figure out the rationale behind why it was Chris, the one person who was always there for him no matter what, that he'd cast in the role of the unknown white-lighter who died trying to save him.

Even so, Wyatt could never quite shake the almost soul-deep knowledge that somehow it _was_ his brother that had kept him safe that day. Not that he'd ever tell anyone that, but still...


	2. This is Chris' earliest memory...

Chris' early memories were mainly just a jumble of emotions and images thrown together so he was never sure of what happened when and in what order.

This memory started with annoyance at the man who'd come into their room at Grandpa's and picked Wyatt up; a man unknown to Chris but seemingly not to Wyatt because Chris could remember the smile his brother gave the guy and the way Wyatt had reached out to be picked up.

Which wasn't right because when they were little Chris had been the only one who could make Wyatt smile like that.

He remembered another grown up as well, even taller than the annoying guy; remembered them talking to each other and to Wyatt. That wasn't the most important part of the memory though. The most vivid part was tall guy in the bright red jumper reaching over and picking Chris up, smiling down at him with a weirdly familiar grin and saying "Hey Kiddo."

Whenever he thought back to that time he remembered feeling comfortable and warm curled against the soft, bright material, feeling protected and at home and, well...safe.

Which was weird and Chris had always wondered about it because the only other person he'd ever felt like that around was Wyatt.


	3. Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what Wyatt thinks about whenever Prue teases him about how he used to be afraid of thunderstorms...

The first time it happened it was unintentional but even though he'd deny it if asked Wyatt knew it was his fault. He'd been young enough that his fear could still make him lose control of his orbing power; one minute he'd been hiding under his covers, scared but determined that Mom and Dad would never find out he was, the next blue lights heralded the arrival of a very surprised looking Chris.

Wyatt had expected his brother to laugh at him or at least ask why he was hiding and then insist on getting Mom but Chris didn't. He just glanced up at the duvet held securely over their heads and then back at Wyatt with an expression far too knowing for a three year old, before grabbing hold of Wyatt's pyjamas and yanking his brother down till he could lay his head on Wyatt's shoulder.

"Night time is for sleeping, Wy. We can play blanket forts tomorrow." Chris muttered into Wyatt's neck as he curled himself around Wyatt.

In that moment, as he felt his shakes subsiding, Wyatt decided he loved his brother most out of everyone he knew because no-one else would have held onto him so he wouldn't be alone _and_ given him an out so he could pretend he wasn't really scared. One or the other, but not both.

After that it was always Chris orbing himself rather than Wyatt stealing him to be a human comfort blanket but Chris always came. Whenever there was a storm at night Wyatt would always find his bed crowded with the addition of one brother who continued not to say anything about the reason why he was there. All the way up until Chris was ten, it was just one of their things.

By then they were getting too big for one bed and Wyatt hadn't really been scared of storms for years so they stopped but Chris still checked on him every time thunder and lightning raged across the sky.

Actually, Wyatt kind of liked thunderstorms now. They reminded him of nights spent in whispered conversations with his brother, his best friend, of stifled laughter and in jokes shared and of not being alone.


	4. Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what Chris thinks about whenever Prue teases him about not having a protective shield like Wyatt's...

If Chris was asked to guess he'd say that he'd seen the inside of Wyatt's shield more often than the outside. It was an integral part of their battle plans, especially against surprise attacks and demons who'd grown wary enough of Wyatt's power to find some way to protect themselves from it. Fighting Bayemon had been a good example of _that_ sort of demon.

They'd been in the attic when that attack took place. Not an uncommon occurrence; Chris sometimes felt like he'd spent half his life in the attic with Wyatt and it seemed like they destroyed the place defending themselves from one threat or another at least once a week.

"You're putting in too much burdock root." Chris tossed out casually as he wandered past Wyatt's half-brewed potion on his way to the Book of Shadows.

"You don't even know what I'm making." Wyatt tossed another pinch of powder into the bowl, just to be contrary Chris was sure, making it put out a puff of smoke. "You've got to watch out for those assumptions. One day you're gonna throw a potion and it's not going to work because, oh look, you didn't put enough burdock root in it."

Chris frowned across at Wyatt over the Book, " _No_ potion requires that much burdock root."

"I'm experimenting." Wyatt replied in a sing-song voice and Chris fought the immediate urge to duck.

"If you blow up the attic again I'm not going to be helping you clean it up this time. And can you please wait till I'm not here? I'm quite attached to my eyebrows, thanks." Chris absent-mindedly used his telekinesis to flip through the Book as he bickered with his brother.

"Are you still sore about that? Come on, you only got mildly singed."

"Because I managed orb out in time, yeah. That's why you should leave the experimental potions to me and Mom; my potions actually work and I've never blown up the entire...huh." Chris trailed off as he noticed that he'd flipped to a page containing a very familiar looking demon. _Bayemon,_ he read, staring at the demon that had been attacking them but he only got the chance to scan the page once, noting phrases like _powerful protections, most susceptible to bladed weaponry_ and _blood sacrifice_ before he was interrupted by the sound of Wyatt swearing.

Chris looked up, then immediately flung himself to the side to dodge the athame that had been flung at his head. Even before Chris hit the floor Wyatt was orbing in next to him, raising his shield around both of them as Chris rolled to his feet.

"Hiding behind your shield? Pathetic." The demon taunted, "You can't stay in there forever, not if you want to stop me from killing the kiddies I can sense downstairs."

"That's what you think," Wyatt growled back at him, conjuring an energy ball. When he then proceeded to throw it _through_ his shield the sneer fell away from the demon's face, unfortunately that was the only affect it had apart from making a slight sooty mark on Bayemon's clothes. It'd taken Wyatt years to figure out how to use his offensive powers from inside his shield, now he used the skill to knock aside fireballs and keep the demon distracted with useless energy balls.

Chris took advantage of the distraction to grab the abandoned athame off the floor while frantically trying to think up a spell. The Book had said something about Bayemon being susceptible to blades so the athame might be able to wound him but Chris wasn't sure it would get rid of him completely. He stared at what he could see of the Book, furiously trying to remember what it had said about vanquishing... _blood sacrifice_...

Chris looked down at the athame in his hand and smiled.

[Power in blood, given freely  
bound to blade, forged for death  
Pierce protections, steeped in evil  
force him to his final breath]

As he spoke it he scribbled the spell down on one of the post-it notes he always kept handy in his pockets, then pricked his thumb on the athame's point and smeared his blood down the blade.

"Wyatt." Chris hissed at his brother, Wyatt nodded to show he was listening but kept throwing energy balls interspersed with the occasional flick of his hands in an attempt to blow Bayemon to pieces. "Say this spell." Chris reached over and stuck the green post-it note on the palm of Wyatt's hand – the one he wasn't creating energy balls with. "Then prick your thumb and smear the blood on the athame. I'll hold him." Chris pressed the athame into his brother's hand over the post-it note and then turned his own power on the demon.

The lightning that flew from Chris' hands then was entirely the product of being fathered by an elder and was a power that had taken Chris a long time to gain control of since Dad's limited time as an elder meant he really didn't know enough about how it worked to be able to teach it's use. The fact that from the day Wyatt figure out how to use his powers through his shield Chris' could suddenly penetrate it as well was something that perpetually baffled Mom - since it didn't work for any of the rest of the family - but that Chris was endlessly grateful about.

Chris' lightning didn't do anything to the demon either except make him twitch a bit and step up his rant about useless they were but Chris could hear Wyatt saying the spell.

"Now." Chris cut off his lightning at the sound of Wyatt's voice and focused on using his telekinesis to guide the blade Wyatt had just thrown straight into Bayemon's heart. The screams of frustrated rage as he burned up were very satisfying.

That was pretty much a typical day for the two of them but then, even before Chris and Wyatt had been old enough to fight demons Chris had known very well what it was like to look out at the world from the inside of Wyatt's almost impenetrable defences. Whenever a demon or some other malicious supernatural entity broke into the manor to attack the Charmed Ones Wyatt would always come to Chris' side to protect him. _Always_ , and without being told.

Chris even had vague memories of Wyatt orbing into his playpen and picking Chris up as best he could considering Wyatt was only three or four himself. Chris remembered Wyatt cradling Chris' head against his shoulder and saying, "Don't look, Chris. Mommy will get rid of the bad guys but you're not allowed to look. You don't need to because I'll keep you safe." He remembered clinging to Wyatt's shirt as he tried not to hear the noises going on outside Wyatt's shield, remembered concentrating only on Wyatt's voice telling him that his brother would keep him safe.

Chris didn't know what his life would have been like had he grown up without the knowledge that he had Wyatt's constant protection but he suspected he'd have been considerably more paranoid.


	5. This is what happens on Wyatt's first day at magic school...

Being in Aunt Paige's class was mildly embarrassing because she winked at him as she introduced herself to her new students, but she was a good teacher, always had been, so Wyatt soon forgot his discomfort. Being in Dad's class was mortifying. Mainly because Dad had taught him all of it already and seemed to think that calling Wyatt to demonstrate in front of the class _every single time_ was acceptable.

Everyone seemed to know who he was, even the older kids who weren't in his classes and hadn't heard the teachers reminding him at every opportunity how they'd known him since he was a baby and wasn't it strange/wonderful/unbelievable seeing him here in their class, old enough to start lessons. Among the other kids there seemed to be two reactions to him; instant dislike because he was more powerful than they were and always would be or fawning hero-worship. Jealousy and fear manifesting as either the fervent wish to erase his existence from the universe or the desire to be his best friend and reap the benefits of his power. Wyatt wondered later how many of them had been told by their parents to try and befriend him.

There were only two kids in the kindergartener's section of the cafeteria that weren't trying to secretly sneak glances at Wyatt – a boy and a girl similar enough to be siblings – but they were huddled together in a corner and seemed unwilling to talk to anyone but each other. Wyatt wondered if he should try going over there but he didn't think he could face it if they rejected him while everyone watched so he resorted to doing what he'd promised himself he wouldn't do.

" _Chriiiiiiiiiissss._ " Wyatt called out plaintively in his mind, reaching for the link to his brother and almost sighing in relief when he felt Chris answer. Wyatt hadn't expected to miss him this much.

" _You said you weren't going to talk to me today._ " Wyatt could hear the pout in Chris' mental voice loud and clear. " _You said you were going to be too busy with all your new friends at magic school."_

Wyatt frowned to himself, " _They're all afraid of me."_ He could hear the slightly bewildered hurt in his own mental voice and didn't like it. This was Chris he was talking to though; trying to pretend like nothing was wrong didn't work on Chris. Even though Chris was still little compared to Wyatt - who was six years old already - Chris knew him far too well.

" _Afraid of you?_ " Chris' giggles echoed through Wyatt's head making him smile. " _Why would anyone be afraid of you?_"

Wyatt didn't notice the way the supervisory teacher watched him worriedly as he sat by himself, frowning at his food then smiling so brightly at nothing at all. As she made a note to talk to Leo about the way Wyatt's eyes had gone distant, like he was listening to something no-one else could hear, Wyatt carried on his conversation with his brother, happily oblivious.


	6. This is what happens on Chris' first day at magic school...

The teachers all reacted just like Wyatt had told him they would; right down to Aunt Paige's wink and Dad's inability to understand why Chris wouldn't want to show off how much better he was at telekinesis than the other kids on the very first day of school. The kids didn't seem to recognise him though unless they'd been told and even then most of them didn't seem to care except to ask about Wyatt in hushed tones.

An advantage of being the brother of the Twice-Blessed Heir of Magic was that was that being a Halliwell sort of took a back seat in everyone's minds. No matter that Chris was basically the second most powerful child at magic school, from kindergarten to college level, he wasn't Wyatt and somehow that meant that even the people who knew who he was didn't hate him or fear him the way they should have done. The way they would have done had they no knowledge of Wyatt.

Of course, a lack of fear could be a disadvantage as well...

“Hey!” Chris stalked towards two older boys who were holding someone up against a wall telekinetically. Once Chris got closer he could see that it was a boy from his class whose power of illusion was small and shaky at best. The older boy who wasn't using TK was sending tiny, sparking fireballs into the younger boy's face, making him flinch. “Let him go.”

The TK wielding boy turned to Chris with a sneer on his face. “Or what, pipsqueak, you're going to make us? Don't make me laugh.” He flicked a hand at Chris obviously expecting Chris to go skidding back down the corridor, not a lot of power behind the gesture but enough to give the recipient a fright. Well, it would have been had the recipient not been Chris Halliwell. Chris just clenched his fists and balanced the power directed at him with his own TK, not moving an inch.

The fire throwing boy, who'd turned to watch the show, was now frowning at Chris. “Impressive, Shorty.” Chris could tell he was trying to be calm but the anger was twisting his face. “What are you, a power null?” The boy raised a hand that instantly had a bunch of fiery sparks orbiting it.

“No.” The familiar voice came from behind Chris' left shoulder and he risked a glance over to see Wyatt and his friends – or twin shadows as Chris liked to call them – sauntering casually into the deserted corridor as if they just happened to have dropped by. “He's just ten times more powerful than either of you will ever be.” Wyatt stepped in front of Chris, between him and the bullies.

Chris watched in satisfaction as the colour drained out of the two boys' faces and the boy they were tormenting dropped to the floor and made a scrambled dash for the end of the corridor. Once he was out of sight Chris turned his attention to his brother's back and glared. “Wyatt.” Chris complained. “I was handling it.” Wyatt just carried on explaining to the now terrified bullies about the penalties of threatening his younger brother and how lucky they were that they hadn't actually laid a finger on Chris.

Completely ignored by his brother, Chris glanced over his shoulder at the twins; Hannah was managing to maintain her usual stoic face but Harley was grinning at the spectacle in front of him. When he saw Chris looking he wiggled his eyebrows at him, Chris rolled his eyes in return but was suppressing a grin while he did it. Once he'd gotten over the jealousy about Wyatt having friends other than him Chris had discovered he quite liked the twins.

Turning his attention back to his overprotective brother and Wyatt's unfortunate victims Chris had an idea. He leaned to the side so he could see around Wyatt properly and subtly wiggled his fingers at the bullies' shoes. Then he waited.

Eventually Wyatt finished his tirade – for a seven year old he had quite an extensive vocabulary – and gestured dismissively at the terrified boys. They immediately tried to take off running... and fell flat on their faces.

Wyatt made a small surprised noise and stared at them for a long startled second before he twigged and glanced back at Chris, a questioning expression on his face. Chris just beamed smugly at him as the bullies tried to stumble away with their shoelaces still tied together.

“Huh,” Wyatt actually looked kind of impressed but that didn't stop him from reaching out and ruffling Chris' hair. “I guess you could have handled it after all.”


	7. This is not the first time the life and death of Chris Perry has affected Christopher Halliwell and it won't be the last.

Wyatt felt his brother’s distress from half-way across the city and ducked out of sight so he could orb, glad that for once basketball practice had finished early. When he was confronted with the view from the top of the Golden Gate bridge as soon as he materialised he wasn’t surprised but shuddered all the same. Inching his way in careful increments towards where Chris was standing right on the edge he called out to his brother, knowing Chris would have sensed his arrival even though he hadn’t turned to look.

“Chris?” Chris still didn’t turn to him so when he was close enough Wyatt put a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Hey buddy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Chris’ voice was low and quiet and so devoid of emotion that Wyatt flinched.

“Really?” Wyatt asked, incredulous. “Really? You’re trying the silent treatment shit on me? After I came all the way up here to find you?“ He gave another shudder as he looked over the edge, only mildly exaggerating for the sake of theatrics. That seemed to snap Chris out of his unnatural stillness as Wyatt had hoped it might.

Chris clenched his fists. “It’s like they don’t see me at all sometimes. They treat me like I’m still a baby to be coddled and ignored.” He finally looked at Wyatt with sadness and fury in his eyes. “I can help. You know I can, we fight better together.” Wyatt squeezed Chris’ shoulder where he was still gripping it and Chris’ indignation seemed to deflate at the unspoken acknowledgement. “Why can’t they see that?”

Wyatt shrugged. He’d often wondered where the over-the-top protective instincts all the parents had when it came to Chris had come from but even after fifteen years he still hadn’t figured it out. “They’re trying to protect you.”

“But I don’t need protecting.” Chris’ voice rose in volume and he flung his hands up in annoyance.

“Hey, hey.” Wyatt held up a placating hand. “I never said you did. I know you’re not as useless as you look.”

Chris glared at him for the teasing but Wyatt could tell it wasn’t real; not just from the smirk trying to quirk up the corner of Chris’ mouth but also from the constant background hum in his head that was Chris’ emotions.

“I’d have to be. You’d be dead already if it wasn’t for me, Mr-I-wouldn’t-know-subtle-if-it-smacked-me-upside-the-head.”

“Yeah,” Wyatt slung one arm around his brother’s shoulders and ruffled his hair as, for once, he was serious. “I know.”

Chris looked at him with a startled smile, not even ducking away from Wyatt’s hand in his surprise. After a moment though his eyes glazed over in thought again and he looked away over the city. “Look, I know I’m not as powerful as you. I don’t have as many offensive powers-”

“Like that means anything.” Wyatt interrupted. “If the amount of offensives powers you have was all that mattered in a fight Trica would kick both our asses.”

Chris snorted, the mention of their youngest cousin making him smile. “You say that like she doesn’t have you wrapped around her little finger. I distinctly remember you getting blamed last week blowing up the grandfather clock again when it was actually her telepathy misfiring.”

“I meant in a fire-fight.” Wyatt objected and then realised that could be seen as agreement with Chris’ declaration that their six year old cousin had him completely whipped. “And I totally could have got her back for that if I’d wanted to.”

“Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that.” Wyatt grinned at seeing the wide smile back on his brother’s face but it was gone a second later with a sigh. “What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted me, is that I know I don’t have as much firepower as you even with the powers I do have but I’m not useless. Okay, I’m only fifteen but Mum and the Aunts don’t seem to realise that I can take care of myself just as well as they can. Better even, I mean, we’ve been doing this practically since we were born.”

Wyatt had learnt over the years that the best way to deal with Chris when he was ranting was just to sit back and wait for a chance to get a word in edgewise. Then try and derail his train of thought as thoroughly as possible.

“Well yeah, but back then you were too short to peer over the back of the couch and get a fireball in the face.” He teased, remembering an incident from last week.

“Oh shut up. You had your shield up, didn’t you? It’s not like it actually hit me.” Chris shifted to bump Wyatt with his shoulder, making Wyatt grab hold of Chris’ jumper tight as he wobbled. He was still very aware of how close to the edge they were standing. Chris just laughed at him. “I can’t believe you’re still scared of heights.”

“I’m not actually Superman.” Wyatt retorted, trying to convince his fingers to release their death grip. “I can’t fly.”

“But you can orb. And levitate.” Chris offered in that infuriating voice he used when he was being calm and rational.

“And what if I panic and freeze up in the way down? Powers would not be any good to me if I was splattered like a pancake.”

“So, the higher up you are, the less scared you are?” Chris’ grin was back and laughter threatened to stop him from speaking. “We can go up there if it’ll make you feel better.” He pointed up at the very top of the bridge. “More thinking time on the way down.”

Wyatt mock-glared at his laughing brother, happy that he’d managed to cheer him up and avert a Chis-blowout. “I am this close,” he held up thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “To pushing you off this damn bridge right now. So orb your ass home before you get a chance to test out your theory. We’re late already in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Blue light surrounded the two brothers, leaving the bridge empty but for the echo of orbs and laughter.


End file.
